"Halt," shouted Syeroshtán, red of face from rage and over-exertion. "La-apschin, you great ass, you toss about, give yourself airs, and twist your arm like some old woman from Riasan--_choú_, _choú_. Do the movements properly, or by all that's unholy I'll----" After this the subalterns led their respective divisions at quick march to the gymnastic apparatus, which had been set up in different parts of the parade-ground. Sub-lieutenant Lbov--young, strong, and agile, and also an expert gymnast--threw down his sabre and cap, and ran before the others to one of the bars. Grasping the bar with both his hands, after three violent efforts he made a somersault in the air, threw himself forward and finally landed himself on all fours two yards and a half from the bar. "Sub-lieutenant Lbov, at your everlasting circus tricks again," shrieked Captain Sliva in a tone meant to be severe. In his heart the old warrior cherished a sneaking affection for Lbov, who was a thoroughly efficient soldier, and, by his brave bearing, invaluable at parades. "Be good enough to observe the regulation, and keep the other thing till Carnival comes round." "Right, Captain!" yelled Lbov in reply; "but I shan't obey," he whispered to Romashov with a wink. The 4th platoon exercised on the inclined ladder. The soldiers walked in turn to the ladder, gripped hold of the steps, and climbed up them with arms bent. Shapovalenko stood below and made remarks-- "Keep your feet still. Up with your soles." The turn now came to a little soldier in the left wing, whose name was Khliabnikov, who served as a butt to the entire company. Whenever Romashov caught sight of him, he wondered how this emaciated, sorry figure, in height almost a dwarf, whose dirty little beardless face was but a little larger than a man's fist, could have been admitted into the army. And when he met Khliabnikov's soulless eyes, which looked as if they had expressed nothing but a dull submissive fear ever since he was born, he felt in his heart a heavy, oppressive feeling of disgust and prick of conscience. Khliabnikov hung motionless on the ladder like a dead, shapeless mass. "Take a grip and raise yourself on your arms, you miserable dog!" shrieked the sergeant. "Up with you, I say." Khliabnikov made a violent effort to show his obedience, but in vain. He remained in the same position, and his legs swung from side to side. For the space of a second he turned downwards and sideways his ashen grey face, in which the dirty little turned-up nose obstinately turned upwards. Suddenly he let go of the ladder and fell like a sack to the ground. "Ho, ho, you refuse to obey orders, to make the movement you were ordered to do," roared the sergeant; "but a scoundrel like you shall not destroy discipline. Now you shall----" "Shapovalenko, don't touch him!" shouted Romashov, beside himself with anger and shame. "I forbid you to strike him now and always." Romashov rushed up and pulled the sergeant's arm.